


Right Where I Want You

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Akiyama Nobutomo Belongs to @judasetcetera, Anal Sex, BDSM, Captivity, Explicit Sexual Content, Hostage Situation, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Severina's May 2019 Requests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 18:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19025359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: Akechi Mitsuhide has finally been taken captive by the generals of the Takeda army, who fully intend to find out exactly what he knows.  But what if it is too late?  What if he, in one way or another, has already won?





	Right Where I Want You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Norage](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Norage).



> Akiyama Nobutomo is a historically based OC belonging to @judasetcetera. This was written for Norage as a request for the month of May 2019.

He shouldn’t be doing this. Nobutomo had known from the moment that the thought had entered his head that it was a bad plan, that it was an idea that should not be entertained for even a half of a second but that didn’t stop him from leaving Shingen’s chamber, from stalking across the dusty ground, barely avoiding Yukimura as he went flying past him – no doubt the overzealous little brat was beating the metaphorical horse even more securely into the ground. Damn him and damn Lord Shingen – if it hadn’t been for his rashness, his unwillingness to see the true danger that was staring Kai directly in the eyes, they wouldn’t be in this situation.

And _this_ wouldn’t have been needed. 

Nobutomo stared squarely forwards at the guarded entrance to the darkened room where their dangerous captive was kept tied and bound. He’d ordered no precautions to be left untaken. Their foe was a slippery one – and while he had Mitsuhide in his grasp he intended to make every use of him that was possible. He slid the door open and stepped into the building, half expecting to find a gory mess of blood and ropes on the ground – but what with? His hands had been completely tied, his armor and weapons had been taken from him. What harm could he do, lanky and pale and useless as a corpse?

That didn’t, however, do anything to help ease his anxieties. 

It was only once he’d made it all the way down the narrow hall, once he’d slipped into the innermost chamber, and once he’d _seen_ him there, unescaped, that he could finally relax. No blood. No broken bonds. Just Akechi Mitsuhide, staring at him unblinkingly like a man gone blind, unfocused and unhurried and perfectly at ease. It was unnerving at the very least.

“You’ve still refused to cooperate,” Nobutomo said bluntly, without further elaboration. There was none needed, and Mitsuhide seemed almost amused at this. He laughed, short and shrill. It didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Does that surprise you? I am Lord Nobunaga’s _faithful_ servant, after all.”

“You would devote yourself to a man who cares not about life, not that of his enemies, nor his people, nor you?” 

Mitsuhide tensed. Nobutomo braced himself automatically, the way he usually did after spitting a particularly daring barb at Shingen – their longstanding familiarity with one another usually kept him out of the line of fire when he was dealing with his own, but this did not apply here, when he was standing within arms’ length of one of Oda Nobunaga’s vassals. There was no protection, although there also was no threat either. As far as he could tell.

“I would give him the flesh off of my bones if that is what he wanted,” Mitsuhide gasped. Nobutomo fought a shiver. It was eerie, how quickly the pupils of his eyes had blown, how he writhed against his bonds as if they were the hands of a lover. “I would carve out my heart and lay it upon my Lord Nobunaga’s knee. I would – “

“You’ve said _enough.”_ In response, Mitsuhide only grinned, although he didn’t try and elaborate further in regard to his loyalty to his Lord. He’d already accomplished all that he’d wanted to achieve. 

“Would you do the same, Akiyama Notubomo?”

He’d not expected that. He’d do a lot of things for his Lord, tense as the air between them was – but to the degree of the graphic descriptions that Mitsuhide had given him? No – there was no use listening to the ramblings of a man who was very obviously mad beyond all reproach. But would you do the same, would you do the same for your Lord? He didn’t think about what his answer would have been. He didn’t want to know what his answer would have been.

“You are vile,” Nobutomo ground out. Mitsuhide laughed and before he knew it Nobutomo had stepped forwards and seized up the front of Mitsuhide’s clothing, nearly lifting him right off of the ground. “What you have done is – “

And then Mitsuhide dipped his head and licked his hand. Nobutomo dropped him. 

“Just what do you think you’re – “

“You didn’t like it?”

Mitsuhide trailed his tongue over his dark lips, staring at him unblinkingly and with such intensity that Nobutomo could hardly bring himself to look back at him. “The extent of my service to Lord Nobunaga runs far _deeper,”_ he laughed, “than most would imagine, you know.” Oh, Nobutomo could imagine well enough, and he was torn between wanting to stand his ground and wanting to turn around and walk away and never look back. This was dangerous. And yet that infuriating smirk, the same one that he’d seen on the battlefield, hadn’t yet left. Nobutomo regretted not gagging him as well – his tongue was just as dangerous as his weapons, and perhaps in more ways than one. He was ashamed, almost, of how quickly that thought had occurred to him, and how easily Mitsuhide seemed to read his very thoughts.

“I could – “

Nobutomo clamped a hand down over Mitsuhide’s mouth, stopping his voice, but in response Mitsuhide wrapped his lips tightly around two of his fingers and sucked harshly, his teeth scraping along his skin. Nobutomo all but leaped directly into the air, his heart nearly thundering out of his chest. Oh no oh no he knew he should have been disgusted and repulsed, he should have turned and left a long time ago, but just like that one fateful encounter on the battlefield (he could still feel his tongue wet against the side of his face) he was frozen in place, only able to imagine what those lips would feel like wrapped around _another_ part of him. 

Mitsuhide drew back and breathed in deeply, saliva dripping from his lips, his tongue, and he looked utterly debauched from those few seconds alone. 

“Untie my hands,” he whispered, “I’ll show you _just_ what I can do.”

And without hesitation Nobutomo did, his limbs feeling like lead. What was he doing how could he, the enemy of the Takeda, this was the man who had nearly _killed_ his Lord and here he was, releasing him with anything but pure intentions. Mitsuhide’s hands were on him as soon as Nobutomo had untied his restraints, sliding over his chest and torso and then down, inching forwards on his knees and Nobutomo hissed as those slender fingers brushed over his arousal. He could almost hear Mitsuhide’s triumphant smirk. He’d won – he’d won from the very beginning and there had never been any contest to it. 

Damn him.

Damn him, he thought as he _helped_ Mitsuhide in the process of removing his belt, undoing the ties on his clothing until he felt those sharp nails on his heated flesh and it was more erotic than Mitsuhide had any right to be. Only seconds later Mitsuhide had again edged forwards, his hands resting on Nobutomo’s hips as he swallowed his cock to the very hilt with an ease that would have scared him any other time. But right now all he could feel was the tight heat of his throat, his tongue, the vibrations as he _purred_ with delight. His eyes were venomous, green as acid, and he didn’t close them once, even as he drew back before swallowing him to the base again. He knew. He had to – he had to know that _he_ had been all Nobutomo had seen in his dreams for nights on end, that this was all he could think about whenever his mind would wander, that this was what had slowly started to take over every single one of his fantasies.

He could hear his heartbeat in his own ears, his blood felt hot in his veins and all he could think about, all that his world was made of was Mitsuhide and that wicked thing he was doing with his mouth, and the delicate, sharp-nailed hands on his hips which had surely killed hundreds if not thousands, all with glee, all with joy. Akechi Mitsuhide here on his knees and yet Nobutomo could not think of anywhere else that he would rather be, it was shameful it was unspeakable it was incredible. He shoved Mitsuhide away without warning and seized him by the shoulders, hauling him to his feet and then effortlessly, furiously walking them both backwards until he felt Mitsuhide collide with the wall before sinking his teeth into his shoulder. Mitsuhide gasped, and Nobutomo’s shoulder stung – those nails, sharpened to points, clawing their way across his back and he wanted it all. He wanted _all_ that this entailed more than he’d ever remembered wanting anything in his life, this man that had nearly killed the Lord he had dedicated his very life and soul to. He’d wanted nothing more than to tear him apart on the battlefield then, and he wanted nothing more than to ravage him here right now.

Mitsuhide seemed to be of, mostly, the same mindset.

One of them had torn through the ties of Mitsuhide’s hakama in the process and they both toppled to the ground in a tangled heap amidst bites and bruising kisses and scratches, lantern oil was slathered all over their skin and clothing and Mitsuhide seemed utterly elated, entirely in his element as he was flipped and shoved to the ground without any further sense of decorum. When Nobutomo finally took him it was with a shout that would have surely attracted any unfortunate individuals passing by the outermost door. Mitsuhide was balanced on his elbows and knees, his face shoved against the floorboards as Nobutomo pounded into his tight entrance unforgivingly. Mitsuhide lurched forwards with the impact each time and felt he skin of his knees shred itself to pieces, the burn only making this uncanny victory that much sweeter.

“Yes, yes _more_ oh please oh – “

“Then _take_ it,” Nobutomo growled, tangling a hand in his hair and yanking, sharply forcing Mitsuhide’s head back before covering the side of his neck in harsh, bruising bites, relishing in how he _squirmed_ beneath him, trying to thrust back in time with him, his watery eyes and that absolutely maniacal grin. Nobutomo had lost track of time long ago and he doubted that Mitsuhide cared either, as frantic and wild and lost to their urges as they both were, fighting a battle that had been won from the moment it had started. 

“You – disgust – me,” Nobutomo grunted, punctuating each of his words with a sharp thrust as Mitsuhide keened in torment and delight. The only warning he gave was a single, desperate wail before he collapsed in a heap with an ungraceful thud and came, trembling from head to toe as he gasped frantically for air, his tangled hair almost completely falling over his face and shoulders in a manner that _shouldn’t_ have been so erotic but it was ultimately what pushed Nobutomo himself over the edge as well. He released deep inside of Mitsuhide – now held up only by his hips – and then collapsed overtop of him, his arms at long last giving out.

“I _disgust_ you,” Mitsuhide slurred after some time, his voice still hoarse, “is that so?” 

Nobutomo felt a sudden wave of revulsion and abruptly rolled off of him, shoving Mitsuhide away with such force that he crashed into the wall. 

“Yes,” he replied, coldly, “that is _exactly_ so.” 

If only that were true.


End file.
